


Lóðjur, The Lynx of Asgard.

by CaveCarson (TinySparks)



Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Loki Does What He Wants, Loki-centric, Lokicest, M/M, Multi Loki Mischief, selfcest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-12
Updated: 2013-06-12
Packaged: 2017-12-14 17:12:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 1,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/839333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinySparks/pseuds/CaveCarson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Excerpts from the colourful life of a Loki living in New York, with two otherselves... Mischief (and Lokicest) ensues. (From the twitter RP account @LiarLo.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Another shade of Loki.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lynx's back story. Originally posted on the Twitter RP @LiarLo.

A clone. That's all Lóðjur is, all he ever was. That is what they /told/ him, again, and again. A mere creation, oftentimes a plaything. A mere reflection, a shadow... How little did they know. Loki, or "Lo" as he liked to call himself nowadays, had left him to rot alone in the land of the Æsir, while he pranced around Midgard, making a new life for himself in the wake of his exoneration following the 'New York incident'. So little care for a trusted confidant, a muse, a lover... Whatever. What is done, is done. A mere clone, a nobody, a nothing... Except /everything/. What no-one bar himself and Loki knew of was the deep, mental connection between the two. Memories, shared, if not experienced. If Lóðjur had played no part in the attempted destruction of Jötunheim, the invasion of Midgard, he damn well knew about it. He had /lived/ it. Each time Lóðjur met with Loki, with his creator - his /god/ - they melded, sharing memories, experiences... Everything. He knew of Lo's new, ha, 'friends'. Of the lovers he had taken. Of the way in which he studied the mortals, and spent his days in luxury, living the life of a reject prince, at once adored and loathed, but ultimately, feared. Respected. Lóðjur had had /enough/. Asgard was tiresome, and there he would never gain the respect he so richly deserved. He was not just a clone, he /was/ Loki! Just... Another shade. And so, to Midgard he would go. Lo could answer for his neglect, for casting off his very own creation, and Lóðjur could experience for himself the veneration his creator was so clearly bathed in - if the gossip of the Æsir was true...


	2. Another shade of Loki.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two Lokis share a night of mischief in Manhattan... (Twitter RP reply to @_Extremis, from @GodOfPuddings.)

Mmh~, fun - very, very /fun/! Lóðjur is gone as swiftly as the giddy, wild-eyed counterpart upon whom he has chanced on this fine Midgardian Spring eve. They meet again atop a Manhattan building close to their original point of meeting, cold wind of the steep altitude whipping about them, hair of jet black and reddish brunette blustering, silken fabric of garmentry rippling to the chill. The gaze of these two men once again meet, alike an abstracted reflection in rippling water meeting that of a perfectly flat glass mirror held aloft to observe the water-nymph that lurks below. Hveðrungr smiles toothily up at him, crouched over the form of the skull-bearer; The lucky mortal that Lóðjur has chosen to obtain the glorious status of sacrifice to his own self. The man yelps and gibbers, almost entirely inert, stunned by the grip of Hveðrungr's harsh claws and subsequent transportation via teleportation to the rooftops. And Lóðjur? He looks to his counterpart with calm, steady eyes of pure, cool emerald, to this vividly unbalanced god of seiðr, and /smiles/ - sweet, and pleasant, and more than anything, /pleased/.

"...Mine friend, do not tease the poor creature so! /Of course/ he will smile for us, will he not?" The sharp click of shoe-heel sounds out across the rooftop; Lo moves catlike through night shadows; Slender fingers meet Hveðrungr's shoulder in a brief squeeze. "Of course he will smile... What use a sulking skull? Come now, mortal-creature - do not whimper so, it is /ghastly/ unbecoming, even for such an insect as thineself~!" With a low, continuous purr, Lo lets the weight of a finely crafted leather brogue settle atop the throat of the shock-stunned mortal, glancing to Hveðrungr to show the most pleasant smile a fellow could conceivably gift.


	3. The Deathstroke Sounds.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki x Loki murderous shenanigans... (Twitter RP reply to @_Extremis, from @GodOfPuddings.)

Ah, what a mess... What a hideous, disgusting, /beautiful/ mess that Hveðrungr has made. One moment, there was a quivering mortal - and the next, there was not; Such is the nature of impermanence. The horrific snap of deathstroke sounds, and the deed is done. Lo never breaks his gaze upon the scene afore him, even as the lifeblood rushes from the ruined throat of this husk of man. What pitiful creatures are these - all gristle and soft organs, and vile brittle bones. /Humans/... What colossal irony, that such beauty be found in the culture of mankind, in his art, his music, his stories - when the vessel for creation be so hideously /weak/... It is quite enough to make a fellow sick with frustration. 

Lóðjur notes the pooling of the mortal's blood at the very moment it connects with the tip of an oh-so-fine leather shoe - blast! - and he takes a step back, cursing, before shooting the beclawed otherself a reassuring look, his features soft, calm, approving...


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki x Loki flirtation. Nøx carries an inebriated Lóðjur to bed, mischief ensues... How can it not?
> 
> (Originally posted in reply to @NoxParadox, from @LiarLo. Twitter RP.)

A slender, gentle hand brushes against a porcelain thigh, drifting to stroke up along the velveteen length of the shapeshifter Lóðjur's feline tail, moving to brush vaguely at the Lynx's own fingers wrapped loosely about the silken tip; That low, provocative voice of the other man /purrs/ against Ló's sensitive feline ear... 

And nothing happens. Not a thing.

Has Lóðjur nodded off? It wouldn't be terribly surprising, in view of his having polished off a bottle of good wine all by himself... 

In a sudden, unexpected motion, Nøx's gentle, stroking hand is caught tightly at the wrist by the very tail of which he thus spake - and in a vexingly converse motion, Ló rolls upon his back, as lazy as can be, a little smile dancing upon his lips, half-lidded eyes all a'glitter with teasing, woozy mischief* 

"..Mm? See? Very...Dexterous, is it not? Eheh~, mm... I appear to have captured you, Nøxxx~".


	5. A Tryst Of Tails.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki x Loki kinky shape shifting; The Lynx vs The Chameleon. Purrrrr~. (A Twitter RP reply to @NoxParadox, from @GodOfPuddings.)

...Ah, this otherself, this expert shapeshifter has got the better of him, as simple as that. Lóðjur had thought to provoke with his little stunt, and here he finds himself caught by the same trick that he himself played. There's something curious about the texture of the muscle wrapped taut about his wrist, something unfamiliar - stronger than his own felinesque form?, he wonders, tugging against the bind, testing. Something stirs within his chest, something hot and fluttering, something piqued only by the thrill of a direct challenge... Then Nøx dips to flick teasing tonguetip just below an ear, and Lóðjur shivers at the minute contact, spine arching up reflexively from the mattress... Apparently his senses were not overly dulled by this Midgardian alcohol, then... Ló tightens his grip with the catlike tail, winding velvet further up the otherself's arm, part flirtation, part invitation to spar... He isn't certain - he /is/ somewhat woozy, but this is... Fun. Teasing, flirtatious, lighthearted, like he had been with his creator, the original Loki, whom he had spent many pleasant days and nights alongside... Lóðjur was not much of a fan of sleeping alone, and had never struggled in this respect; this generous host surely would not mind obliging in providing such a presence this eve..? Harmless, really. All good fun.

"Mmh~, /oh/, gaaaamesss~, is it Nøx? How lovely - I do /so/ enjoy a little, mhhrrr~... Play, eheh. Very skilful, o' Chameleon..." His slender, pale form twists uselessly beneath Nøx's grasp, before limbs collapse back onto the mattress. "...Oh, look, stalemate. Hm. Whatever to do~?" With that, his teeth snap gently, just out of reach of the other's throat; Tonguetip runs slowly over a vicious fang, and Ló purrs for all he's worth...


	6. The Promise of Scars.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki x Loki flirting... (Twitter RP reply to @NoxParadox, from @GodOfPuddings.)

Tight grip about the wrist; Leg hooking over his own; Hips grinding down with sudden, confident forcefulness... A sharp intake of breath sounds, and to Lóðjur's surprise, it's his own... So simple, so direct, and so alien; Domineering is not something Ló knows how to be on the receiving end of... How amusing that it should be one's own counterpart who dares--oh, /oh/, so /that's/ how it is!--how delectable an experience! He offers up a smug little smile after licking over that feline fang, which lasts for all of half second as fingertips trail down, brushing under the waistband of his shorts; Muscles tense beneath the touch, and as Nøx dips, licks over his lips, Ló digs his heels into the rear of Nøx's legs, enmeshing them yet further. The small smirk that sat upon his features disappears - it has to, because his lips are fully occupied in the task of claiming the other's, pointed fangs nipping and tugging at the soft flesh of Nøx's deliciously bloodflushed lower lip.

"...Scratched? Scarred, more likely... Mmm, Chameleon~," he husks between gentle bites and purrs, straining upward to reach the other - "Go on, Chameleon... A little gentle petting would be welcome... I /promise/ I shan't bite too hard, scratch too deeply, mar so perfect a form... Heh." Purring softly, the liar-god draws free hand up above his head in a clear gesture of submission, as he sucks slowly - maddeningly so - upon his otherself's lip.


	7. Twining.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loxi x Loki; Shapeshifter make out... (RP reply to @NoxParadox, from @GodOfPuddings.)

The Lynx groans openly against the other's lips, rolling his trapped hips slowly upward, relishing the contact and taking his time over it - no need to rush when playing - better to meander a while, explore, discern the limitations of the game, the boundaries, rules - and how exactly they might be tested, bent, broken. Those bizarre tails of theirs twine together, and Lóðjur clenches and unclenches his free hand at the steady, slow rocking of hips, breaking away from the curiously familiar curves of Nøx's mouth long enough to murmur, "Not metaphorical, those clawsss~," but offers nothing of an illustration - not quite yet. Again he captures the expert shifter's lips, licking at the corner of his mouth, small, measured kitty-licks that taunt and provoke, until their lips are once more aligned... Mm, this was most pleasant indeed; Delightful company, quite appetising, definitely amusing - exciting, even, to tarry with one so unpredictable in form - and in mind? This was yet to be discovered; There was time enough to pick apart those workings... "Mmhhn~," he mumbles against the pressing lips and insistent tongue that demands entry, licking against Lóðjur's teeth most carefully, /seeking/... Ló parts flushed lips further, tongue stroking against his otherself's in encouragement, inviting him to explore further with that dexterous wet warmth that tastes so /divine/... Ah - 'twas the fangs he was after, eh? The Lynx rewards this astonishing, thrilling forwardness with a bite to Nøx's curious tongue, just this side of drawing blood, and gives a muffled chuckle, sucking on the light wound with soothing, dubiously apologetic lips.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so very much for your time spent reading, for your comments, kudos, and subscriptions! 
> 
> Wishing you a 'Marvellous' day~ x, @Iron_Mun


End file.
